


Don't be so Shy

by rufferto



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hand Jobs, Humor, Limericks, M/M, Romance, translation from french
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:14:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8489272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufferto/pseuds/rufferto
Summary: This is a translation from from french (with permission) and my first translation of a fanfic. I just knew this had to be shared in English it's so much fun. Please understand translation from french doesn't often come out perfectly same. I did my best. Please go back to the author's page and leave comments too if you love the fic.:) I was enchanted with it. I love this kind of humor. I may not have got all the words right but I did try.Chris learns that his daughter has decided to improve her writing.And now thanks to Lydia Martin... his subconscious is certainly not taunting him with ideas about Peter  Hale. Poor Chris.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Don't Be So Shy!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8314741) by [HBOWarrior](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HBOWarrior/pseuds/HBOWarrior). 



Bursts of laughter came from the first floor when Chris got home. He remembered that Lydia Martin was going to spend the evening with his daughter so he took the stairs four at a time and gently knocked at Allison’s door.

“Come in, Dad,” exclaimed the latter, still laughing.

“Good evening, Mr Argent!”

“Good evening, girls. Everything alright? We could hear you laugh on the other side of the street.”

The two teenage girls were sitting cross-legged on the bed, each with a computer on their lap. They exchanged a knowing look.

"Not shopping?"  
  
"We found something better," confessed Lydia, smiling.

  
Better than shopping for Lydia Martin? Chris couldn’t prevent his eyebrow from rising questioningly. Surely they were hiding something.  


"Nothing illegal?” He inquired suspiciously.  


"Not really," said his daughter. "Actually, it's more educational.”  


Her father was afraid to ask. "I thought I had done enough with parental filters on the Internet ..."  
  
"Don’t worry, it’s not about that," smiled Allison. "You wanted me to improve my writing, right? I have.”  
   
Chris folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the door. "You've piqued my curiosity."  
  
Lydia nudged her girlfriend slightly, "Allison, it’s supposed to remain private."

"Why?" She looked astonished. "I find this a form of great expression. And it's true; it's educational, it pushes us to excel as we launch personal challenges, and to work our brains.” The young Argent eyes sparkled like a scientist who had just made the most beautiful of discoveries.

Lydia sighed at her enthusiasm.  
  
"Someone explain to me what is going on in this room?" Chris demanded.  
  
His daughter sat up, suddenly becoming serious.  "Dad. I have something to tell you. "  
  
"You'll scare him," Lydia whispered.  
  
Allison took a breath. "I decided to write."

There was an awkward silence. Chris obviously did not understand the magnitude of it. "That’s good? "  
  
"That's not all. This is fan fiction. "  
  
"Fan-what?"

Lydia threw such a jaded look to her friend that Chris wondered if he should worry about, as a responsible parent, his daughter’s new fad.  
  
"Fanfiction. And don’t give me that look, Lydia. My father has a right to know. It’s not taboo. "  
  
"Yes, exactly. It is taboo for the uninitiated. It does not speak to the uninitiated," noted the beautiful redhead.

"Allison ... You have the right to do what you want, but if you walked into a cult ..." Chris pressed.  

"It's not a cult. Well, not really," she giggled.  
  
"And this is supposed to reassure me? "  
  
"Let me explain: fanfiction is about writing stories to support an existing universe in literature, film, video games ..."

Chris’ eyebrows narrowed into a frown. There was something fishy about this.  
   
"It is published on a dedicated website," added Lydia reluctantly. "It's free, and people can read and give us their impressions through the chapters. "  
  
"What is the point?"  
  
"There are many," said Allison, glad that her father was interested in her new activity. "First, as I said, it allows us to work on our writing. Then, from the moment one enters a fandom, we share knowledge with other authors. There is a whole network, thousands of people around the world! We exchange our texts, we discover real marvels ...”  
  
"... Or pure horror," commented Lydia pursed her lips.

"And it allows us to dream a little more," sighed Allison, blissful.  
  
Seeing that her father was still puzzled, she continued:  "Imagine, Dad: we can reinvent a story! For example, you can change the end of a film that you didn’t like... And above all, one can invent stories of love between characters who are not supposed to be together in the original work. Fanfiction is the continuity of an existing universe. It lives on in the fandoms for fans.”

Chris nodded. This new fad was, at first glance, nothing dangerous, good.  His relief was obvious. "Very good. And on what …uh… universe do you girls write?"

  
They exchanged a new look and declared together in a cheerful voice:  


"The Broken Hearts Clinic!"

 

On the rare evenings when he allowed himself a little rest, Chris had indeed stumbled onto this TV series. The main protagonist was a soft Sexy Doctor who had love affairs with almost all the nurses and patients of the hospital.

  
"And you invent a love story for a character who already has all the girls he wants?" Chris was surprised at how curious he was. "It doesn’t really sound interesting."  
  
"Instead, Mr. Argent," simpered Lydia. "Think about this. Doctor Sexy has perhaps the most beautiful girls in the series, but he would have a lot more choice if he discovered new tendencies ..."  
  
"Lydia," huffed Allison. "My father does not need to know about the m/m!"

“I thought it was not taboo," quipped her classmate.  
  
"And, what is m/m?"  
  
Lydia bit her lip to keep from laughing while Allison glared.  
   
"The m/m. It is like you and Peter Hale ..."  
  
"Lydia!"

"... Besides, if you think about it, your father and Peter, it’s a great story. Imagine: two men are total opposites. They hate each other but ultimately relieve all that tension between them in every room of the…"

 

"Lydia! Are you crazy? We talk about my father, yes, but not _that_..." Allison grinned trying to recover the laptop of her friend.

  
“So what? Like I always said I shipped your father and Peter Hale. "

 

Chris was speechless when faced with this incongruous exchange. His eyes widened in surprised shock when he finally realized what m/m could possibly mean if associated with him and Peter. "Wait, you write ….. Gay romances?" He asked, trying to sound as detached as possible. (But he failed miserably).

  
"Not always," Allison tried, embarrassed.  
  
"All the time!" Added Lydia.  
  
"Okay OK… "  


Chris looked for something intelligent to say, but he had nothing.  "Uh ... OK. It's ... um. Okay. It is an idea. You are not doing anything wrong, right? I don’t understand the concept, really ... but after all, why not? "

  
Lydia sent another nudge Allison smiling, seeming to say 'you see I told you so!"  
  
"I just want to know ... Lydia? "  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"What's the story with Peter Hale?"

  
Allison moaned her despair when she realized she would not be able to stop her friend. She wished she could just silence Lydia with a mute button to save her from embarrassment.

 

Because, yes, they had raised the possibility of Chris and Peter. It was a year after the death of his mother. Chris was not doing well and Lydia had assumed that dating someone would do him the most good. Needless to say, she had mentioned Peter, despite what had happened. It was also at this time that it had initiated Allison to the wonderful world of fanfiction.

  
Initially, Allison read without really taking any interest in the stories offered by Lydia. And then there was the fandom of the Broken Hearts Clinic and the most popular ship: Doctor Sexy/Nurse Bryan.

 

Allison fell in love with that fictional couple. Several months later, she finally wrote her first fanfiction.  
  
"I think you'd go well together," said Lydia, pulling her friend from her thoughts.  


"Sorry?"  Chris was shocked before, but now he was completely stunned.  
   
"I assure you, Mr. Argent, I have not (yet) written fanfiction about your amorous adventures with Peter Hale," Lydia smiled. "But you can’t tell me that Peter, beyond his brash and obnoxious character and his dangerous attitude isn’t attractive? Sexy villains like him are always the most popular in fandoms."  
  
"... What?" Chris had a headache suddenly.  
  
"This kind of couple would be infamous on the net!" Lydia exclaimed. At this point, Allison was also red and Chris seemed totally disconnected from reality. "The manly monster hunter falling in love with the dreamy werewolf sociopath. It didn’t seem possible that anything could bring them together, yet Chris Argent and Peter Hale, in a duel to the death, found an alternative at the end of the fight. They embrace, bewildered, in the pouring rain, and maybe more ..."

  
Lydia's gaze was lost in the depths of her delirium. Chris cleared his throat, uncomfortable. He didn’t know what to say.  
  
"Dad?" Allison asked, disturbed by his reaction.  
  
Chris gave a start. "Yes? Eum. Lydia, avoid imaginary stuff between Peter Hale and me, okay? Just keep to the Sexy Doctor, please," he said in an attempt to be authoritative.

   
"You're the leader," sighed the girl, unable to hide her disappointment.  
  
"Perfect. I prefer that. Have fun, girls. And no nonsense."  Chris left the room and closed the door.

 

Unfortunately, not before he heard Lydia offer Allison; "Parrish and Senior Stilinski?”

  
He was dizzy.

 

OooOooOooO

Chris was as nervous as someone on the day of their prom. Two weeks had passed since the night his daughter Lydia had told him about fanfiction.  
  
And to his great despair, he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since.  
  
A few days earlier he had even decided to investigate the case (it was his words, to feel good) and got lost on dedicated sites. He was surprised to discover that he could find stories on almost all existing universes.  
  
Chris had spent a whole night reading fictions such as A-Team (his youth) and had even enjoyed some (all categories, which also included the famous tag m/m). Some writers were really talented.

He had experienced the BDSM tag throughout his readings in the fandom of Sexy Doctor. And subsequently emerged traumatized and wondered if his daughter was one of those authors that specialized in explicit rating. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.  
  
Much more than fanfiction on the net, it was what Lydia had described between him and Peter that was messing with his brain.  
  
Well, in truth, every time he read a fanfiction m/m (and no, he did not try at all in that category. Not at all), his mind visualized too clear eyes and a charming, perhaps slightly mocking smile. As if Peter was telling him that he had done well.  
  
To cut a long story short.

Chris was as nervous as the day of prom, and the reason for the nervousness was absolutely not acceptable. It included, obviously, the same dreamy-muscular-sociopath-wolf (that was not he who said it) and it was not the moment to think of him that way. Not when he was on a case. Not when the wolf in question was about to join him in his car to accompany him in the forest. But more so that Chris was supposed to hate him and vice versa.  
  
The passenger door opened suddenly and the hunter almost jumped. It was the kind of guilty jump that would have someone start grilling you in seconds. But Peter sat without giving him a more than glance.

Chris sighed. It started well.  
  
Lydia was wrong across the board: Peter was perhaps a dangerous freak, but he was not as attractive as she claimed. Chris studied his outfit; simple jeans (that perfectly fit his skinny thighs) and a V-neck gray t-shirt (that was perfectly tight across his chest). Nothing exceptional.  
  
And ... dreamy musculature? He laughed inwardly. Chris had nothing to envy. The hunter had more. He was training hard to keep his body fit, considering his profession. He cashed sports hours until exhaustion, until his muscles burned so much that he found himself on the verge of dragging himself to the ER.

Well, OK, he exaggerated a little bit. But Peter, he didn’t have to suffer because – the jerk - he was born like that.  
  
"It seems that if you turn the key, the engine starts," quipped Peter, pulling him out of his ramblings.  
  
Chris cleared his throat and forced his facial features to look menacing.

A brief sneer from Peter meant that he had just failed in that attempt.  
  
Later, the wolf and the hunter (No, this reference had nothing sexual Chris’ mind) plunged into the undergrowth looking for a plant for Deaton that only werewolves could spot.

Not having much confidence in Peter, Chris had wanted to accompany him.  
  
He already regretted his decision.

“I know my ass is hot, but if you could stay focused, we would get there a little more quickly,” grumbled Hale, leading the way.

“I don’t …” Chris didn’t have the strength to challenge. Peter would be happy to drive the point, anyway. He might have a hot ass, but he was also arrogant and Chris didn’t consciously want to look at it. Okay?

He heaved a deep sigh and adjusted his pace to not fall behind.

Since Peter was clearly not inclined to keep a cordial conversation with him, Chris took the opportunity to focus on the current case. Deaton spoke of a magical plant ... A flower that affected wolves the opposite way aconite did. What did that mean, exactly? Aconite poisoning made wolves suffer so this flower what? Increased their powers? Physical abilities?

Before he could curb the flow of his thoughts, Chris visualized how _exactly_ the magic flower could multiply Peter’s capabilities.  "Damn ..." he whispered, closing his eyes. Except that walking with his eyes closed in the forest was not the smartest thing to do.  He narrowly managed to catch himself from falling and somehow wound up with his arms around the wolf’s waist.

Peter stopped dead, turned slightly raised arms and was about to advise Chris that clinging to him like a koala on his bamboo wasn’t helping. Instead, the wolf caught a smell of dread mixed with something headier emanate from his "teammate". It surprised him so much that he couldn’t utter a derogatory word.

Chris let go hurriedly while pretending to dust himself off. He muttered something unintelligible and quickly started ahead. Without the visual, it may help to stay focused. He wondered for a moment why Hale did not make any comment on what had happened. Good, he was already feeling pretty silly about that.  
  
The following few miles went by smoothly. But obviously his brain, that dirty traitor, seemed beyond his control as he started to muse during the deceptive lull.

He held back a desperate whimper. Why did he have to read all the fanfiction? Well, there were good reasons (yes, yes) ... It was good to be interested in his daughter’s activities to make sure she was not the victim of a cult. (Chris thought that the way reading and writing fanfiction turned his brain, maybe he could legitimately take this hobby as such). In any case, what he did not anticipate was his own imagination going haywire.  
  
On several occasions, he even wanted to write. It seemed crazy.

The week before he had sat with a notepad and pen at the living room table, full of crazy ideas. At the last moment, however, he had retreated, a little ashamed and a little embarrassed, as the day of his first hand-job. A time that had so marked him that he remembered the same issue of Playboy that he had used.  
  
Chris suppressed the nostalgic smile that sprang to his lips. Stay focused, man!

He did not understand why this urge to write had made him uncomfortable. It was not as if he would write gay romance! ... No, really. What an idea!  He knew nothing, anyway. If he had posted anything on the net it would have undoubtedly reaped mockery of all kinds. And what would he write?

"Peter Hale" whispered a little voice playful, that of his conscience, which suddenly had a tone similar to that of Lydia Martin. Chris snorted with disdain. What next. What would he say about him?

"Once upon a time there was a werewolf named Peter Hale. He’s a forty year old werewolf who uses bullshit to dominate and impose others but pretend otherwise. There is probably no heart behind that false air of demonic angel with blue eyes. Eyes with a mixture of blue and sky blue wheelwright. The kind of blue that transports you to another world, traps you and terrifies you. Because Peter Hale behind his lewd and hungry look … is a fucking sociopath!”

  
There was nothing else to say about it. What story could he develop? Hale already had a world that was not supposed to exist. He had to find something more original! A simple but effective idea that would attract readers.

"Once upon a time Peter Hale and Chris Argent. The wolf and the hunter-nothing sexual in it – were silently advancing in a dense evergreen forest in search of a magic flower ..." 

Chris winced. _Wait a minute? Since when do I include myself in the story?_

The hunter shook slightly and quickened his pace. Stupid idea to tell a story about what bully Hale was. He had to stay focused. You never know, maybe a creature would attack them. He had to keep his senses on alert.

He ran fifty meters before Lydia, the voice of his conscience, began to taunt him.

"Peter Hale and Chris Argent alone in the isolated depths of a dense coniferous forest … the things he could do with…..”  
  
"Yeah, Peter could rip my throat and leave me for dead at the first opportunity ..." Chris scoffed inwardly. What did _she_ think, conscience? Deep in the woods, while the wolf is not there, and if the wolf was there, he would eat us ... like the song said.  
  
Chris began to hum the rhyme without even realizing it, under Peter’s attentive ear, who, still silent was watching the hunter in a funny way.  
  
"Yes, we eat it raw ... At the first opportunity, he would catch us… against a tree we would devour the skin ... with burning kisses, caresses of lascivious ..."  
  
Chris swallowed without slowing his pace.  
  
"... Except that when asked 'Wolf are you there? What are you doing? "The wolf will not be getting dressed, but will undress. He may kneel, who knows? "

This time, it took a superhuman effort to keep walking. Peter’s gaze burned at him.  His breath became labored and his gait swayed.  
  
"It would take us in the mouth and suck us with application, it would be hungry, poor wolf ..."  
  
Behind him, Peter remained conflicted. He received so much contradictory olfactory information from the hunter, he was almost giddy. Anger, desire, frustration, despair, embarrassment, even desire, louder ... What was he thinking?  
  
When he noticed that Chris was struggling to maintain control and was short of breath, he finally broke the silence.

" … Are you OK ? "  
  
Chris gave a start, as if suddenly he remembered that he was not alone. A shiver ran along his spine at the sound of the hoarse voice of the wolf.  
  
"I’m... um. Yes. "  
  
"Explain?"

They finally stopped. Peter saw Chris clench his fists, heard him swallow and watched as he turned slowly, eyes closed. The wolf cocked an eyebrow, condescending. But when Chris opened his eyes, and Peter saw how his pupils were dilated, he stared in almost smug astonishment.  
  
"I ... You will have noticed that I do not have your abilities," Chris stammered. His voice trembled slightly. "I need a break. "  
  
"Yet you had me look… Great ..."

It took Chris a second to understand. Color rose on his cheeks and he instinctively covered his crotch with both hands.

Peter studied his gaze for a moment before he smiled.  
  
"It's not what you think ..." Chris tried, but Peter strode toward him and encircled his wrists in his strong fingers.  
  
"Really? I believe what I see ..."

He spread his hands then released them, and Peter put one of his own to Chris’ neck. His grab was unexpectedly soft as he stroked warm skin with his fingertips. Chris' heart was beating at breakneck speed. There was nothing he could do to hide it. The voice of reason whispered to him that he'd better get away, Peter was dangerous and he would rip his throat out. That voice was now Lydia (his wicked conscience could only bear that name), telling him otherwise and she was right.  
  
Chris groaned when Peter's lips crashed against his. His mouth opened instantly, eager to feel the wolf’s tongue against his. He gasped for breath and his lungs were on fire as Peter’s free hand traveled to his pants and grabbed his erection.

The wolf’s lips were sucking the sensitive skin of his neck and his body began to shake increasingly fast. Chris clung to Peter, with no option but to grumble and moan…and then a little louder when Peter whispered indecent words into his ear.  
  
_Let's wander in the forest_ …  
  
Lydia consciousness hummed merrily and Chris lost his footing, too fast.  
  
"Chris ..."  
  
Peter’s gravelly voice was both tinged with desire and called to the rescue ... He chanted his name, as if to draw him into a world of lust and debauchery ...  
  
"Chris ... Chris ..."  
  
"Ah ... Peter ..."  
  
"Chris!”

Chris jumped, blinked and came back to himself.  He was alone, he was dressed and Peter did not have his hand in his jeans.   
  
"What the fuck??" That was the real Peter.  
  
"Wha ... What? "  
  
There was Peter out of the thicket, a good five meters from him, annoyed. “You getting deaf in your old age? I found the flower. "  
  
"The flower ..."

  
Holy shit, Chris had dreamed all this? He was seriously going to have to reprimand his daughter and Lydia Martin. This was all their fault.  


The wolf seemed to lose patience with the hunter’s lack of responsiveness and strode right up to stand in front of him.  "What happened now?"

Chris had plans to retort _go to hell_ , but no sound passed his lips. He was lost in the hypnotic eyes of the predator.  
  
And if… ?  
  
No.  
  
No, it was out of the question to think about that. Lydia conscience would not win this game ...  
... But was it really Allison and her best friend who had directed his imagination towards Peter Hale? Was it they who had played the role of developer ... revealing his desires?  
  
Chris was on the verge of pulling out his hair.  No, it was not so simple. He was just very tired. He had to think about it all, somewhere nice and quiet.  
  
"I do not know what is going on in your head right now, Christopher, but it’s telling me nothing worthwhile," said Peter suspiciously. "We should go, now that we have the flower Deaton wanted."  
  
Chris came to life. The flower ...  
  
“Peter?"  
  
"What now?"  
  
"This flower ... It is on you? Around you?”  
  
Peter seemed surprised. Chris was not in the habit of addressing him as so ... nice? Sweet? Friendly? He’s definitely hiding something.  "It's a psychotropic and an aphrodisiac. Why do you want to take me and abuse me?” He said it in his usual ironic tone and in the most detached way. He just hadn’t expected to see Chris’ eyes widen, clearly shocked and his cheeks turn red.  "Uh ... I was kidding ...?" He looked somewhat uncertain. "Don’t tell me you thought about ...? "  
  
"What? No! No of course not!" Exclaimed Chris.  
  
"Listen, it's not that I mind ..."  
  
"It doesn’t bother you?"  Chris would willingly slap himself if he could. _Shut up, fool!_  
  
"But… What? How do you mean "it does not bother you"? Wait, wait ... let me understand ... you _want_ to _sleep_ with me? "  
  
The hunter looked offended.  "Of course not! What an idea. It's ... it's the psychotropic part that interests me. You know, for hunting. "  
  
Peter peered intently.  "Yes. Of course. "  
  
Sleeping with Peter?

 _Tsseuh!_  
  
Well, OK.  
  
The idea had crossed his mind.  
  
Several times.  
  
It was that bullshit fanfiction’s fault.  
  
Poor Chris, that wasn’t at all a credible excuse. "Let's go," Chris grumbled. "And forget all that."  
  
"You don’t want to talk about it? No, because I feel slightly concerned by the situation."  
  
"There is nothing to say."  
  
Peter sighed. Was he relieved? Disappointed? Chris could not tell. "Very good. In that case, come on.”  
  
The wolf and the hunter - definitely nothing sexual in it - turned their way through dense coniferous forest. All was quiet around them. Only the sound of muffled tree life reached them.  
  
Peter began to hum.

Chris nearly choked on his own saliva or a giggle. "Seriously?" he managed to speak finally. "Let's wander in the forest?"  


"I like this rhyme," Peter confessed in a shrug. "It's part of my culture."  
  
Chris shook his head. Silence settled between them and lasted a long time until the hunter eventually broke it.  
  
"Peter?"  
  
"What _now_?"  
  
"Do you know what fanfiction is?"

 

**FIN**

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you who don't know it, there's a rhyme "Let's stroll in the woods" from the 17th century or something....That's what this fic is referring to.


End file.
